William felt every inch of skin and every muscle fiber on his back sending two completely different signals to his brain.
One was extreme soreness.
Those large hands seemed to have a scanning function.
They precisely located every source of pain on his stiff lower back, caused by a hangover and overexertion.
They proceeded to deconstruct and reconstruct it in a dominant yet effective manner.
The other was a cold, bone-chilling panic.
The owner of these hands was Chain Bro.
An underground vigilante who, late at night in an abandoned warehouse, pounded sandbags as if they were his enemies and wielded industrial chains like toys.
Now.
This vigilante was giving him a back massage with hands that could easily crush a person's throat.
William's brain rebooted from its frozen state, followed by a storm-like surge of thoughts.
Coincidence?
Could there be such a coincidence in this World?
He had just gotten out of one superhero's bed, and then precisely landed on another client's massage table?
He lay there, not daring to move.
Fearing that any subtle movement would expose the turbulent waves in his heart.
"Relax."
The voice from above him came again.
William tried hard to let his body go limp, like a puddle of mud melted by the Sun.
He had only one thought now:
End all of this before the other party recognized him, and then disappear from this street at light speed.
No masked person would like someone knowing his true identity.
Time was ticking away, minute by minute.
Every second felt as long as a century.
Those large hands moved down from his nape, past his shoulder blades, and then to his lower back.
Each spot was pressed with full force, making him grimace, yet he dared not make too loud a sound.
He even wondered.
What if the other party recognized him and decided to apply a little more force to his spine?
An "accidental" claim, with himself as the insured.
Finally, the torturous yet enjoyable massage stopped.
"Alright, flip over."
The hoarse male voice said.
It's coming.
What was destined to come, finally came.
William's heart suddenly constricted, almost leaping out of his throat.
He took a long, deep breath.
It felt as if he was inhaling not air, but thin courage.
Then.
He moved with a cinematic slow-motion speed.
Slowly, he turned his body over.
He opened his eyes.
A face with distinct features, etched with resolve, came into view.
The other party was looking down, wiping his hands.
His expression was focused, seemingly not immediately noticing him.
William was about to breathe a sigh of relief.
But the other party finished wiping his hands and looked up.
Their eyes met.
The air solidified in that instant.
The soothing light music in the massage parlor seemed to have been muted.
Chain Bro.
Or rather, the massage therapist's gaze, upon seeing William's face clearly, suddenly constricted.
A hint of confusion flashed in those hawk-like eyes, immediately replaced by intense suspicion and vigilance.
He recognized him.
That aura, which he had felt in the abandoned warehouse, mixed with danger and scrutiny, once again enveloped William.
William felt his smile muscles twitching uncontrollably.
He swore, this was the most awkward and most life-threatening "after-sales visit" he had encountered in his two lifetimes combined.
However, just as the vigilance in Chain Bro's eyes was about to transform into something more threatening.
William's survival instinct and professional ethics took over his brain with unprecedented speed.
The stiff muscles on his face miraculously relaxed, and a brilliant, almost exaggerated smile appeared.
"Hey!"
William waved his hand proactively.
His tone was as relaxed as if he had met an old classmate he hadn't seen in years.
"What a coincidence! I didn't expect to run into you here, sir!"
Chain Bro's brows furrowed into a knot, and his lips pressed into a hard straight line, saying nothing.
But that expression clearly said:
"Try to make up one more word?"
"I'm serious!"
William quickly sat up from the massage table.
Completely disregarding his shirtless appearance, he pointed at the other party, then at his own waist.
His face was full of "incredulous" surprise.
"I accidentally strained my back last night, it hurt like hell, so I randomly found the highest-rated shop on the map, and I didn't expect the therapist to be you, this highly skilled… expert!"
He said the words "expert" with such sincerity, as if from the bottom of his heart.
Chain Bro's eyes remained cold; he scrutinized William up and down, as if analyzing what trick this glib fellow was playing.
From his secret training ground to his daily workplace.
This could no longer be explained by coincidence.
"Rodriguez."
Chain Bro finally spoke.
His voice was even deeper than it had been in the warehouse.
"You're following me."
This was not a question, but a statement.
"You've got it all wrong!"
William immediately cried out in injustice.
His expression was as exaggerated as a third-rate actor.
"If I had known you worked here, I would have booked directly and specifically requested your premium service! Your craftsmanship, honestly…"
William gave a thumbs-up, his expression switching to one of awe.
"It's simply art! That strength, that precision, it's just like the ointment I gave you last time, remarkably similar, one internal, one external, a two-pronged approach, curing the ailment!"
His words carried a lot of information.
He both highlighted their previous interaction and subtly praised the other party's "craftsmanship."
He also reminded the other party that he was a good person who had given him "benefits."
A subtle loosening appeared in Chain Bro's expression.
He certainly remembered that ointment; its effect was surprisingly good, allowing his wrist to recover several days earlier.
"So,"
William saw that the timing was about right, and changed the subject.
Leaning slightly forward, he lowered his voice in a tone of business negotiation and said:
"You see, a top-tier therapist like you, with a 'divine hand,' must suffer from much more severe hand strain than ordinary people like us, right?"
As he spoke, he stared at Chain Bro's large, calloused hands with a look of concern.
"Long-term high-intensity exertion, joint wear and tear, tenosynovitis, muscle fatigue… these are all potential risks."
Chain Bro was completely stunned.
He hadn't followed William's line of thought at all.
One moment it was a tense standoff, and the next it had turned into a health segment and product promotion?
"I've recently been researching a new product,"
William's speaking speed was not fast, but every word carried a captivating power.
"The 'Premium Therapist Hand Care Special Insurance,' specifically designed for professionals like you who rely on your skills for a living. From finger joints to wrist joints, comprehensive coverage."
He paused.
Looking at Chain Bro's face, which was etched with "what the hell are you talking about," he showed a "I understand you" smile.
"Of course, I know you might think it's unnecessary.
However, sir, our company now has an internal employee and friend trial price, with a very significant discount.
As my VIP client, I absolutely must tell you this good news as soon as possible!"
After saying that, he pulled out his phone from his pants pocket, pretending to pull up a QR code.
"…"
Chain Bro looked at the man in front of him, shirtless on the massage table, spewing saliva as he tried to sell him insurance.
For a moment, he didn't know how to react.
The killing intent was diluted by a sense of absurdity.
Is there something wrong with this guy's… brain?
Ultimately, Chain Bro said nothing and walked towards the store's lounge.
William immediately put away his phone, nimbly jumped off the bed, and put on his clothes as quickly as possible.
"Well, you go ahead and be busy, I won't disturb your work! I've already settled the bill at the front desk, I'll look for you again next time I need something! Remember to give me a regular customer discount!"
As he spoke, he quickly slipped to the door, pulled it open, and turned back to add a brilliant business smile.
"Oh, and Mr. Therapist, I'll definitely add more time next time for your craftsmanship!"
After saying that, without waiting for any reaction from the other party, William slammed the door shut with a "bang" and fled from the therapy clinic as if escaping.
He looked back at "Harley's Massage House," still feeling a lingering fear.
This World was too crazy.
An insurance salesman's client was actually his massage therapist.
This back treatment was thrilling.
However, his back really didn't hurt anymore.
He straightened his body, feeling more relaxed than ever before.
He just didn't know whether the next time he met Chain Bro, he would give him a discount, or simply break his legs.